


Tales from the Star Isle

by KayleeArafinwiel, simply_squared (simply_shipping)



Series: B2MEM 2012 - Kaylee and Kelly [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, In-Laws, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/simply_shipping/pseuds/simply_squared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are tales from Númenórë, Elenna, the Isle of the Star, concerning the House of Elros Tar-Minyatur from its earliest days. They are written to fit the prompts for the b2mem 2012 "Bingo Baggins' Bingo Bash", re-opened for B2MEM 2016, particularly the "Adûnaic" bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales from the Star Isle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In S.A. 67, the second child of Elros Tar-Minyatur is born – and the King’s firstborn and heir would rather either he, or his new sister, were far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Fiondilverse – Elros’ Queen, Emeldir, doesn’t make an appearance as such, but one of her younger brothers, Eärnur (first named in Fiondil’s “Instruments of Love” in Vaire’s Loom), is a key character. The “Narn en-Êl”, or “Tale of the Star” is also from the Fiondilverse, mentioned in “Name that Tune” from Fiondil’s Tapestry.

The six-year-old heir of Númenor was a child of very definite opinions. His human uncles were Good. His parents were Good. Spinach was Bad. Riding lessons were Bad. Other lessons were Good. In the two days since her birth, Vardamir had very firmly decided that his new sister Tindómiel was very, very bad. It wasn't enough that she had stolen Nana's lap before she was even born, but once she arrived, she stole everyone else's time. Ada, Nana, his Uncles, everyone was always cooing over that baby, or talking about the baby, or telling Vardamir how lucky he was to be a big brother. Vardamir wished she would just go away.

Uncle Eärnur had told Vardamir, before the baby arrived and made everything awful, about his home by the Sea, and how there was a library there that looked out over the cliffs towards the sunset. Vardamir really wanted to see it. He liked the Sea, and he liked books (even though Ada wouldn't let him into HIS library), even though he couldn't always understand everything. But he was getting better! He scrambled up onto the window seat in his room in the nursery, looking out over the city. How far away could it be? Vardamir bet he could go on his own. He could walk all the way to the market now, even though Nurse always made him hold her hand. But it couldn't be too much further away than that, could it? The market was about the furthest-away thing he could imagine.

Eärnur rapped lightly on the door of his nephew's nursery before entering. He didn't want Vardamir to be entirely surprised by his presence. When he came inside, carrying a new storybook for the lad, he couldn't help but notice Vardamir gazing seaward. "Vardamir," he said. "Are you enjoying the view, pityaquen?"

"Uh-huh," Vardamir said. He stayed in the window, not even looking at his Uncle, much less running to him as he would have only a few days before.

Eärnur moved closer, finally sitting on the window seat beside his young nephew. "It is hard, isn't it, Little One?" he said softly. "No longer being the youngest."

"I don't _want_ her!" Vardamir said. "Make Ada and Nana give her back."

"If it helps at all," Eärnur said drily, "your Nana didn't want me or Ecthelion when we were born, either."

"But you're _fun_!" Vardamir objected. "Tindómiel just screams and sleeps and smells."

"Well, when we were born, we were just like that, too," Eärnur gently told his nephew. "As were you, when you were born. But we would never have wished you away, Little One. It shan't be all that long before your sister is big enough to play with you, truly."

Vardamir turned away, shoulders hunching forward to block out his uncle. "Nuh-uh."

Eärnur picked up the small boy and planted Vardamir on his lap, facing him. "Enough of that sulking and pouting, Nephew. It does not become a Prince of Yôzâyan."

Vardamir tried to wriggle out of his Uncle's grasp, but Eärnur's grip was firm, though not painful. "Maybe I don't wanna be a Prince, then!" he said, lower lip sticking out as he continued his pout.

"Maybe you do not," Eärnur nodded. "I can understand that. What would you rather be, if you could?"

That stopped the pout, and Vardamir looked up at his Uncle, suddenly interested. "I don't have to be a Prince?"

"Unfortunately, you will be a Prince no matter what, for it is what you were born to be," his uncle replied with a wry smile. "However, being a Prince does not mean you can never be anything else, as well."

The lip went back out, though not quite as far. "I dunno. I wanna read my books. And not have any yucky sisters."

Eärnur smiled sympathetically. "Well, you can certainly be a scholar," he said diplomatically. "Books are very important, as your Nana will tell you. It is how she met your Ada, actually, over books," he said with a soft laugh. "So you see, if it was not for your Nana's books, you would not be here."

Vardamir wrinkled his nose. "Ada and Nana won't let me read their books." Looking around quickly for Nurse, he leaned in closer to his Uncle and confided, "I tried reading some once. But I didn't understand it, and then Ada spanked me."

"Did he, now. Well," Eärnur said thoughtfully, "I suppose 'tis a good thing I brought you this, then." He lifted the oilskin-wrapped package he'd set beside him on the window seat.

Vardamir lit up, reaching for the package. "Really?"

"Really," Eärnur confirmed, and he helped his little nephew undo the fastenings. The tightly wrapped oilskin fell away to reveal a handsomely bound children's book, written in Quenya. It was titled "Narn en-Êl".

Vardamir snuggled up against his uncle, carefully opening the book. Stumbling over some of the words, he started reading aloud slowly, looking at the carefully drawn pictures.

Eärnur smiled, caressing his nephew's dark hair as the boy read. The Tale of the Star was written as a poem, which made it easier for children to read, he supposed. The rhyme and regular beats of the poem would assist in such things. As the pages were carefully turned, they saw Elwing land, bird-shaped, upon the deck of Rôthinzil, the Nauglamir hanging around her neck.

Vardamir traced the outline of bird-Elwing with one finger as he read that page, then turned to the next, not even noticing as his father entered the room.

Elros stood in the doorway, listening as his son's high, clear voice made its way through a child's poem about his parents. He had come too late to hear, but he wondered idly if the book mentioned the two children Elwing had left behind. Vardamir wouldn't recognize the story. Elros hadn't told it to him, not sure how to make it suitable for a child.

The Narn-en-El wound to a close with Eärendil rising in the sky for the first time as the Star of Hope, and Eärnur glanced up as he sensed his brother-in-law and king's presence. "Aranya," he said, dipping his head respectfully to Elros. "Thou hast a most eager scholar in the making."

"Atto!" Vardamir said, abandoning both book and uncle to give his father a hug. His arms were already around Elros when he remembered that he was mad at him. "Is Tindómiel still here?" he asked suspiciously, backing up.

Elros sighed and picked his son up, ignoring the squirms to get down. "Vardamir, your sister is not going anywhere."

Eärnur sighed. "Nephew, I know you do not like Tindómiel just yet, but trust me, a child is a precious gift. You are your Atto and Ammë’s first gift, and they will not forget it, but she is as much a gift for you as she is for them, a gift from Eru."

Still holding Vardamir, Elros sat on the window seat next to his brother-by-love. "Did you enjoy the book?" he asked, deciding to let the subject on Tindómiel go for the moment.

Vardamir nodded. "Uh-huh. She had a jewel, but bad elves were chasing her, so she turned into a bird and got away, and gave it to her husband and now he sails in the sky."

Eärnur smiled faintly. "Did you mark the names, Little One? The Lord Azrubêl and the Lady Gimilroth," he translated, into the names the lad most commonly heard attached to his absent grandparents.

Vardamir frowned, looking between his Atto and his Uncle. "But... That's..."

"Yes, child?" Eärnur murmured.

Vardamir looked up at Elros. "Can _you_ turn into a bird, Atto?"

Elros chuckled. "No, yonya. But I see you understand who the story was about."

"See, hinya, your anatar sails above us even now." The child was born to be a loremaster, thought Eärnur, with the way the King's family managed, speaking Adûnaic, Sindarin and Quenya so that one flowed into the other, at least in private.

Vardamir didn't even realize there was anything unusual about drifting between languages as he spoke. It was just the way he and his parents always talked.

"Can you show him to me?" he asked, not specifying who he wanted to show him.

Eärnur glanced at the King. "Coming, aranya... hánonya?" he amended. He felt more relaxed in Elros' presence now that Vardamir had calmed, and at the king's nod, the three of them ventured out on Vardamir's balcony, into the night air. Eärendil rode high above the horizon, and Eärnur pointed the Star out to the child.

Vardamir looked at it solemnly for a moment, still in his Atto's arms. Then he blew a kiss towards the distant light.

 


End file.
